Technical Support
by TachyonOne
Summary: Crossover with Operation: Reality Check. Reality Jumper Chris Davis is enlisted to fix Yggdrasil, and unwittingly wins the affection of a goddess-in-training.
1. Chapter One

Technical Support  
  
An Ah! My Goddess / Infinite Earths Fanfic  
  
By Roehl Sybing (indef@infinitedeferral.com)  
  
Chapter One  
  
Chris typed away at the keyboard, all the while eyeing the time displayed in the corner of the monitor. He had spent only three minutes punching in commands and tracking down the virus, and already he was getting bored. He predicted to himself that he would target the malicious program and inoculate the system in another four minutes.  
  
The others in the room didn't seem so optimistic. They had been dealing with hardware problems for over four days until the agent was called in to assist. All around him, technicians were tinkering with their proprietary equipment and getting bad results from the experiences. Just after he transported in, a rather noteworthy scientist had to be stretchered away because of serious burns that he had suffered while repairing a monitoring station.  
  
Some mysterious virus had infected the computer systems of Alternate Earth Delta 4-2-8. Among indigenous hardware - personal computers and laptops and other assorted objects of technology belonging to the natives of the parallel dimension - the problems came and went. Some people lost files and essential data was occasionally erased, but the presence of the virus was temporary in those systems.  
  
The real dilemma was the program's interaction with the Commission mainframe. On Delta 4-2-8, two surveillance satellites and a listening post along the shores of Greenland were, within days, in serious need of repair, and in each instance Agent Davis was the point man to tackle the virus. Nothing doing for Chris, though. He had pinpointed the areas in the computer net where the virus was replicating itself. The difficulty was not in destroying the program, but to prevent it from infecting the system. In two weeks, the virus was proving to be quite persistent.  
  
This time, Chris took a different approach to the problem. Popping in a disk from his pocket, he attempted to run a new algorithm he designed just for this case. As the computer whirred away, he sat back in his chair and folded his arms while he waited for answers.  
  
Chris looked back at the few technicians that nervously watched over him and his work. He nodded at them all, saying, "It's all good, guys."  
  
The computer beeped, alerting Chris to a new message flashing on the screen. An innocuous notification blinked on and off across the top line, reading, "Welcome to Yggdrasil! Press any key to continue."  
  
He squinted at the message, pondering where it came from. "Hey," he asked the techs, "Are there any remote connections open?"  
  
"Not since we went into safe mode," one of them replied.  
  
"Hmm."  
  
"Why do you ask?"  
  
"Come over here. See this? It looks like some kind of inter-network communication."  
  
The technician shrugged his shoulders. "Well, I've never seen it before at this station. Where did it come from?"  
  
"I dunno," Chris said, "I ran an algorithm that I created to trace the history of the virus on the network, and whatever it did, it activated this prompt. The virus must've came through this program. Are you sure there are no communications coming out of this facility?"  
  
"I am quite sure, Agent Davis. I have monitored every transmission made in the last seventy-two hours."  
  
"Well, it's probably just a downloaded copy of the original. Thank you, doctor."  
  
The tech stepped away, leaving Chris to ponder the title screen that remained on the monitor. The man had to have been wrong, Chris thought to himself. Underneath the welcome message flashed a date and time, which was identical to the system clock. Ultimately, he had to see for himself. He tapped the keyboard, and welcome message disappeared, and in its place was a file listing. Whatever Yggdrasil was, it was obviously a part of the network within the listening post.  
  
He reached for a pad on the desk. It was rigged to display the results of the algorithm, and sure enough it led him into this new system, in a directory clearly unlike the others, for the characters were garbled and were unlike those of the other files.  
  
Chris nodded in approval. "Three and a half minutes," he said out loud.  
  
He commanded the computer net to jump to the infected directory. At last, the first real resistance came when the screen flashed a warning message, reading, "Access Denied. Password Protected."  
  
"Interesting," he said, "But easily remedied." Reaching into his bag, he took out a decoder disk - also of his own design - and slipped it into one of the station's slots. At his command, the program automated all sorts of instructions meant to open the directory in spite of the protection. With the speed of the computer station and the efficiency of his programming, it would take another minute to have access to whatever was inside the protected folder.  
  
Suddenly, though, the station sparked and the monitor flickered. Chris examined the predicament. The virus was fighting back by countering his decoding program.  
  
"Uh oh," he said.  
  
"Is there something wrong?" the tech asked.  
  
Chris took a deep breath, as he helplessly watched, if only for a moment, the virus strike back with greater intensity than normal. "Uh...no! I've got it taken care of!" he said, though only one idea came to mind, and it was the type of situation that he was compelled to bring out his big guns.  
  
Ripping open his bag, Chris fumbled around for his handheld computer. When it was in his grasp, he plugged it into the station and laid it upon the table. He flexed the muscles in his fingers for one last battle. As the virus continued to eat up the system's resources, Chris fed instructions into his computer, independent of the virus' progress. Stopping the infection at the source was his first priority, but as the virus transformed the data structure of the computer net, Chris was forced to adapt to the changing conditions. But through it all, he was in full control.  
  
"Now you're mine," he said, pressing down hard on the Enter key. His computer sounded the confirmation, and in an instant, everything went quiet, from his equipment to the monitoring station in front of him. The monitor went black for a minute, while Chris and the other techs watched with anticipation. Only when it flickered on with the startup sequence did they all breathe a sigh of relief.  
  
"Phew," came from Chris' lips as he collapsed back onto his chair, "Well, that was fun!"  
  
"What did you do, if I may ask?" one tech said.  
  
"Nothing until that last part, really," Chris replied, "Once it countered, all I did was partition off the operating system where the virus originated and sealed it off."  
  
"And that destroyed the virus?"  
  
"No, but it does stop the progress of the infection. That should be enough until I write a new script."  
  
"Agent Davis, thank you so much!" the tech said, shaking Chris' hand, "You really are the most innovative engineer at this listening post!"  
  
"It was nothing, really," he said, blushing.  
  
"Well, I guess you'll be heading home, am I right, Agent Davis?" the tech asked without waiting for an answer as he double-checked Chris' work, leaving Chris standing there with his equipment and a smile that quickly left his face.  
  
"Home," Chris said softly, "Yeah."  
  
---  
  
"He is not of this Earth. He exists beyond the great limits of our own universe."  
  
"Yet he is the only one capable of helping us. He cracked our system and sealed off the error. Clearly, he possesses an insight that the mortals of this Earth lack. Our options are few."  
  
"What do you suggest, then? We cannot visit him as we would an ordinary mortal in our realm."  
  
"Then we must bring him to us. I know it is questionable at best, but it's the only way.  
  
"Very well. I will prepare the teleportation, but I am putting you in charge of this mission, dear goddess. See to it that he steps lively among the heavens."  
  
"Thank you, sir."  
  
---  
  
The end of the wormhole led Chris back to the gateway room at Headquarters. A final push threw him out of the wormhole but he remained on his feet, as Jake stood in front of him, waiting to greet him.  
  
"Welcome back, Agent Davis," Jake said, "Good job."  
  
"Thank you, sir," Chris replied. He lacked all spirit in his tone as he thanked his superior officer and friend.  
  
"Agent Davis, what other duties do you have left to fulfill this week?" he asked ceremoniously.  
  
"None whatsoever, sir."  
  
"Very well, Agent Davis. As scheduled, I am granting you and the other Reality Jumpers ninety-six hours of liberty, effective immediately."  
  
Chris nodded slightly. "Yes, sir," he said, "Thank you, sir."  
  
The two exchanged salutes and Chris went for the door, with his head bowed and a look of humility on his face. Jake watched him retreat, and followed him out to the hallway.  
  
"Chris?" he said, once outside.  
  
The Reality Jumper turned around.  
  
"Are you alright?"  
  
Chris smiled weakly, sighing as though he were a defeated character. "Jake, that's, like, the seventh time someone's asked me that this week, and that's twice coming from you."  
  
"I'm concerned, that's all."  
  
He bit his lip, opening and closing his mouth as he searched for the words. "She's scheduled to leave today. Probably at the port right now."  
  
Jake nodded in understanding. "I see," he said, "Is that where you're g--?"  
  
"Absolutely not!" Chris snapped back. Then he stopped himself, and continued in a softer tone, "I-I have some paperwork to file from this excursion."  
  
The two exchanged looks of acknowledgement, and Jake watched Chris walk down the hallway and out of sight. He clicked his tongue, not at anyone in particular but at the situation in which Chris found himself not one week ago.  
  
---  
  
The door sprung open, and Chris marched right through.  
  
"What the hell is this?" he said, holding a piece of paper in his hand.  
  
The bespectacled Nicole looked up from her labwork. "Is that--?"  
  
"Yes, this is your email! You're dumping me by sending an email!?"  
  
"Chris," she said, taking off her glasses, "I don't want us to end like this."  
  
"Oh, really? 'Dear Chris, I'm going to Manila for a year to study radioactive activity in the Japanese blast area, and from there I will be taking a research assistant's job at the University of Oxford. Please don't be upset, as I hope we can still be friends. God bless you. Love, Nicole.'" he said, reading the rather short rejection message, "How did you think it was going to end!?"  
  
"Chris..."  
  
"Why can't you say all this to my face? Tell me, I want to know!"  
  
Nicole sighed. She paced back and forth for a moment as Chris vented, but all this time she was gathering up the courage to tell him off.  
  
"Really?" she said, now with an angry look on her face, "You want to know? Yes, Chris, I AM leaving. I should've told you three months ago. I was wrong, I admit that. But I hid it from you because I didn't want any arguments on what I should with my life!"  
  
A confounded Chris looked at Nicole. "I wasn't going to...it's not like...I'm not...Nicole, you're my girlfriend!"  
  
Nicole flung her arms into the air and threw a dagger into his heart. "No, Chris. I'm not your girlfriend. I was never yours, and you were never mine."  
  
"What are you talking about? The last three years--"  
  
"--Was an illusion, Chris. God! We hardly go out, you seldom take me anywhere, and not once in the last six months have you told me that you love me. So, tell me, Christopher Mark Davis, exactly why you thought I was your girlfriend!"  
  
Chris' jaw dropped. He didn't have answers, only excuses. "I'm...I'm a very busy guy, Nicole..."  
  
"Yeah, that's right. You were busy. You were always busy. And I have to sit around my apartment just waiting for you to get some shore leave, right?"  
  
Silence. Chris had no comeback for that one, and Nicole, despite acting behind his back, was absolutely right.  
  
"Look," Nicole said, this time with a more conciliatory tone, "You're twenty-one, right?"  
  
"Yeah," Chris replied.  
  
"How many years have you been a Reality Jumper?"  
  
"Seven."  
  
"What's your IQ?"  
  
"160."  
  
"How many missions have you been on?"  
  
"Over three-hundred."  
  
"And how many Alternate Earths have you saved from destruction?"  
  
"Six."  
  
Nicole scoffed. "Well, I'm twenty-one," she said, "I have an IQ of 155, two Ph.D's from Columbia and an honorary from MIT. And what do I have to show for it? Only two articles in the last seven technical journals, and three grant rejections on theoretical physics research. You don't need me."  
  
Chris bowed his head, and felt like his legs were in cement. Out of nowhere, he realized now that Nicole had been waiting on him for too long.  
  
"Look at me, Chris," Nicole said.  
  
Chris picked his head up, and lightly pressed against his cheeks were two delicate hands belonging to a sad-smiling Nicole.  
  
"We're a perfect match, and a piece of my heart will always belong to you," she said, "But I have a mind, too, and I want to use it."  
  
He nodded and blinked once to keep from breaking down in tears. "How long?"  
  
"A week. I'm leaving in a week."  
  
"A week..." he scoffed.  
  
"Chris! Chris, wait!" Nicole cried. But it was too late, as he was both feet out the door, slamming it shut behind him.  
  
Chris wanted so much to be angry at her, and wanted to show it by clenching his fists and stomping his feet. But he hadn't the energy for it. Instead, he stopped after taking a number of paces out the door to find the courage to go back and apologize. Since he had none at the moment, Chris walked on, never to see Nicole again.  
  
---  
  
"A fine afternoon, Agent Davis," Hacker One said upon entering the computer lab, "Finish that mission report for me yet?"  
  
Chris fixed his gaze on the computer monitor. "Afternoon, Hacker," he said.  
  
"How're you holding up?" he innocently asked, to which Chris responded by shooting back a look with two fiery eyes. "Sorry. Scratch that, forget I asked. How was the mission?"  
  
"It was the same as the last," Chris said, "I'm writing a system-wide algorithm right now to protect all of our systems here and on Delta 4-2-8 from the virus."  
  
"Sounds like an aggressive sucker."  
  
"Yeah, well, that's what bothers me. It's an industrial-contemporary Earth, no indigenous programmer should come close to the technology behind this program."  
  
"Outside job?"  
  
Chris shook his head, "Probably. But if so, the question is why." He then looked at Hacker, "Hey, while you're here, let me ask you something. Have you ever heard of Yegg...Yigg...hold on."  
  
Unable to pronounce the word, he seized Hacker One's pad and stylus and wrote the word "Yggdrasil" on it.  
  
"That," Chris said, "What do you make of it?"  
  
Hacker One shrugged his shoulders, "I dunno. Is he related to Gilgamesh?"  
  
Chris chuckled. "It's the name of some computer network back on Delta 4-2-8, I think. I accidentally stumbled onto it while tracking down the source of the virus. Turns out the virus was hiding in some file on Yegg-dray...that network. But the thing is there were no communications going in or out of the listening post, so it's not possible that I was connected to anything at the time."  
  
"Interesting," Hacker said, looking at his pager, "Yeah, I don't know. Look, they're gonna need me downstairs. Drop the report in my box, alright?"  
  
"You got it," Chris replied, returning to his work. He didn't like to leave a dangling reference about Yggdrasil in his report without a few more details, but he had none to give. When it came to computers, his philosophy was that once the problem had disappeared, it was no longer necessary to ask how or why. It was getting late in the afternoon as well, and he was expected with the rest of his team for a night on the town, presumably to cheer him up. Wanting to start it and get it over with, he picked up the pace of his typing to finish his report.  
  
Suddenly, the monitor flashed.  
  
"Welcome to Yggdrasil! Press any key to continue."  
  
Chris gasped. Whatever sequence of keys he had pressed had caused a familiar welcome message to appear. He looked over the message a hundred times, trying to figure out why it stood in front of him.  
  
"What are you?" he asked out loud.  
  
Of course, curiosity got the better of him, and he tapped the keyboard to once again enter the phantom system.  
  
This time, however, he didn't get a listing of files, but a blank screen and the constant whirring of the computer beside the monitor, growing louder over time and generating an unusually increasing amount of heat. Chris looked at the computer, then the monitor, which was beginning to blink all sorts of colors, slowly at first but quickening while he stared at the image.  
  
Chris wiped the sweat from his brow. It was hot, and much of the heat was coming from the computer. Slowly, he rolled backwards on the wheels of his chair, but he remained ever fixed on the computer screen, which had him locked in a trance, even as the heat intensified and sparks began to come from the direction of the machine.  
  
"Fire detected on the 61st floor, section fourteen," an automated voice accompanied by an alarm sounded all over the computer lab, "Evacuate immediately. Oxygen deprivation and system shutdown in twenty seconds."  
  
Chris didn't understand what the overhead voice had said, despite the clarity of the announcement; only the sheer volume of the message had broken his hypnotic state, and in the moment that he was lucid did he recognize that he was in serious trouble. At once, he made a beeline for the door of the lab, diving into the doorway and out into the hall. An electromagnetic seal lowered in front of the door, and Chris watched through the window as the computers in the lab flickered off, one by one, as a precaution. Then he began to recall what had transpired in the moments before he blanked out. He tried to muse over the strange experience, but as there was an immediate hole in his memory, he was quite unsuccessful.  
  
---  
  
Chris favored his arm as he walked into the lobby of Headquarters. He had landed on it when he dove out of the computer lab, and after a while it had become quite sore.  
  
"There he is!" Mike cried, running up to Chris, "He's set an entire room on fire just to get away from us!"  
  
"Hey, hey, I'm here, ain't I?" Chris said, with weakness in his voice.  
  
"Yes, you are. Trust me, my friend, we've got a whole night planned, get your mind off your worries and all!"  
  
"Alright, but could you not wrap your arm around my neck so tightly?" he pleaded, pressing his finger against the bridge of his glasses to keep it on his face.  
  
"C'mon, leave him alone," Kim said, taking Chris away from Mike and having her turn to hold him as the three of them, with Jake and Jackie, exited the building and out onto Sixth Avenue. "Tonight's all about you, Chris. What do you want to do?"  
  
"Me? I want to go home," he said blankly, to the groans of the other four Reality Jumpers.  
  
"OK, then...this night's all about me," Kim replied, "And I say we're going out to dancing!"  
  
"Dancing? What do you mean, dancing!?" Chris protested, "No one ever said anything about--!"  
  
---  
  
Sure enough, they were all on the floor of some midtown club to expend whatever excess energy that was leftover from the rest of the day. The room was alight with various colors and patterns that overloaded the senses of the Reality Jumpers, and they made a night out of simply letting loose and having fun.  
  
The first one off the floor, however, was Chris. After a half hour of improvised dancing and half-hearted attempts to mingle with women of his height and age, he could not determine if he was physically exhausted or emotionally fatigued. Either way, he wanted no more of his friends' efforts to distract him from his troubles. It wasn't that he was ungrateful. He appreciated that his fellow teammates were there for him. So he let them have their fun while he ducked into a relatively quiet corner of the club.  
  
"Hey!" Jackie shouted from behind him.  
  
Chris jumped right off his seat. "Oh, God!" he cried, "Jackie, what're you doing!?"  
  
"Followed you. Anyways, what'cha doing hiding back here?"  
  
"I'm not hiding! I'm just catching a break, that's all."  
  
Jackie nodded, and sat down across from him. She rest her elbows on the table and her head on her hands, looking right at Chris.  
  
"Don't you worry, C.M.," she said, "You were too good for Nicole."  
  
Chris smiled, then shook his head, putting together the right response. "No, I'm not," he said simply.  
  
"Oh, come on. Look at you! The brains, the outerwear, and you got this thing with your hair that's going for you..."  
  
"Jackie..."  
  
"I'm just saying."  
  
"I appreciate it, Jackie," he said in a commanding tone, "But it's not meant to be. I'm no good with women."  
  
She waved Chris off, saying, "That's not true."  
  
"It is, and I stood by Nicole to pretend that I was. But I never took care of her. Why?"  
  
Jackie shrugged, to which Chris took out his wallet and flashed his badge.  
  
"Well, the job DOES grow on you, I guess."  
  
"That's an understatement," he replied, "I'm a Reality Jumper. Nothing else can matter. I don't know how you do it, Jackie, but guys like me...we're meant to be alone."  
  
She looked at him for a moment, and when it was clear that nothing was going to persuade him otherwise, she did what she thought was best by standing up and leaving him alone.  
  
---  
  
Being alone in a crowd was worse than simply being alone, and Chris was learning that the hard way as he walked up Times Square, in front of the rest of the Reality Jumpers. He could hear that the four of them mumbled amongst themselves. No doubt they talked about him, and what they should do next. But after dancing, a late dinner and a few short films at the 50th Street moviegrid, it was clear that there was nothing they could do to shake Chris from his depression.  
  
"You know, being the team leader and Junior Director, I could just order Chris to cheer up. Ow!" Jake cried as he was punched in the stomach by Jackie. "I was kidding, don't you know?"  
  
"Guys," Chris said, stopping and turning around to face them, "Thank you, really. I mean it. But I'll be fine. I just need a field mission or something productive."  
  
He then paused to recall all things Nicole said that he didn't do with her in what little spare time he had away from work.  
  
"I guess I'm just not a leisure kind of guy," he added, with his head bowed once again.  
  
Looking at the ground, Chris was unable to see the clouds forming right on top of him. The others didn't even notice until the buildings all around them, shining bright with flashing advertisements and florescent lights, flickered on and off, as sparks of lightning danced from structure to structure just above their heads and the heads of the rest of the passersby in Times Square.  
  
"Chris!" Jake cried.  
  
"What?"  
  
"Look!"  
  
He looked up, and in the center of the largest cloud above him opened a swirling vortex. In all the panic and confusion around him and the Reality Jumpers, Chris didn't know what it meant until it sank and drew closer to him, and by then it was too late.  
  
"Guys!" he shouted to the others, but already his feet were off the ground as he tumbled upwards, unable to combat the gravity of the wormhole that sucked him in and swallowed him whole.  
  
The other Jumpers were low to the ground, covering their heads with their hands and arms, trying to withstand the sound and the fury of all the energy that spontaneously traversed the street.  
  
When it was all over, there was a moment of dead quiet. The silence crescendoed into low murmurs among passersby, and then a few scattered wails of panic, increasing both in number and intensity by the second. Jake and the other three looked up. Sure enough, Chris was gone, but even if he wasn't, they wouldn't be able to see him, as they could barely see each other. Their silhouettes were difficult to discern in the pitch black darkness of an untimely power outage, induced by the phenomena that swept Chris away.  
  
---  
  
Chris lay flat on the ground, as several figures gathered around his motionless body. His breathing was minimal, so the talk among the growing crowd was of relief that he survived the ordeal. Finally, a woman approached and cut through the crowd. She stood over him, with her hands on her hips, and having on her face a look of relief but also of determination.  
  
"Very well, it is done," Peorth said, "Put him in a bed. He must rest."  
  
TO BE CONTINUED.  
  
---  
  
Author's notes: This was just the setup for the bulk of the fanfic in the AMG universe. Chapter Two on the way! 


	2. Chapter Two

Operation: Reality Check is a Sailor Moon fanfic written by Roehl Sybing. For more information, visit http://www.infinitedeferral.com/  
  
Technical Support  
  
An Ah! My Goddess / Infinite Earths Fanfic  
  
By Roehl Sybing (indef@infinitedeferral.com)  
  
Chapter Two  
  
Chris didn't know where he was, but in those first moments in between sleep and consciousness he didn't really care. The pillow was quite soft and the bed was very comfortable, as he lay underneath a very warm comforter. He kept his eyes closed even as he ascertained that he had just woken up. Another hour of sleep, he wished to himself. There probably was some paperwork or a mission briefing waiting for him at Headquarters, but they could afford to wait for him. Chris rolled around in bed, burying his face into the pillow and hoping to go back to sleep. But he was compelled to wake up for good, once his hand brushed against a texture that could only be the leather of his flight jacket...  
  
He threw the comforter aside and shot up, getting his feet on the ground and standing in the middle of a very large room. First, Chris examined himself. He was in his field casuals, the same uniform he wore the night before. At least he assumed it was just one night ago. He tried to piece it all together. He was at the club with his friends, then at dinner...then at the moviegrid...  
  
"Must've been one hell of a night," Chris said to himself. He continued to fill in the holes in his memory, but details of how he got here were sketchy.  
  
Come to think of it, where was he?  
  
The room in which he was standing was luxurious, though not excessive. Sure enough, the bed was grand. The air in the room was neither warm nor cool, but remarkably comfortable nonetheless. The room had all the necessary comforts of home, which softened Chris' defensive stance. A hotel suite? Central Park West, or Tribeca perhaps?  
  
Behind him, a silk veil shrouded the entire wall, a giant window looking out. Chris parted the veil and caught a look of the outside. He wasn't anywhere near Central Park.  
  
"Whoa," he said, gazing out at the vast, pristine landscape, a mix of aesthetically-placed trees and plants and tall, spiraling buildings pointing to the sky but some branching in every other direction. Beyond the immediate vicinity in front of Chris lay even more breathtaking sights. From a distance, the sky was populated with islands of solid marble suspended high in the air, each containing their own miniature city and exotic flora. Underneath all of it, including the ground directly under Chris' window, was nothing. There was no bottom to the backdrop that lay before him, and either the land where he woke up was a precipice of a very tall cliff, or yet another island in a sky of endless height and depth.  
  
Chris clenched his fists. He was in a dream world, but he was quite sure that he was not dreaming. Then he remembered standing in Times Square, as the nighttime sky opened over him and swallowed him whole. The next thing he knew, he was here, wherever here was. Two possibilities entered his mind: rescue, or abduction. But his training led him to be suspicious, and assume the latter until otherwise. Especially as he heard footsteps behind him.  
  
"Good morning," said the voice of a woman.  
  
He turned around, startled at her sudden appearance. Her clothing was just as romantic as the scenery about him, and her outward appearance became exceedingly disarming. "You better be room service. Or housekeeping," he said, trembling. "But I don't need the sheets changed, thanks much."  
  
The woman shook her head. "I'm Peorth. I'm the one who--"  
  
"Stay where you are!" Chris demanded, placing a hand on his belt, "I'm arm--oh, Christ, where's my piece?"  
  
He patted himself, searching for his weapon. Of course, he had left it back at Headquarters when he last went off duty.  
  
"There's no need to be upset," Peorth insisted, "I brought you here. I need your help."  
  
"You...brought me here? You kidnapped me, you almost got me killed, and you want me to help you?"  
  
"I'm sorry. You must trust me, you were never in any--"  
  
"Not another step," Chris said, now holding the nearest object he could get his hands on. In this case, it was the veil behind him. "Or I'll, you know, use these drapes against you."  
  
As he backed himself into the corner of the room, Peorth continued to tiptoe closer, looking with confidence to comfort him. "Please believe me, you are in no danger. My name is Peorth," she said, extending her hand.  
  
Chris looked at Peorth, and then at her hand. He didn't really know what to do. "Christopher," he said, "Christopher Mark Davis. Agent, Federal Reality Commission."  
  
"Yes, I know. We need your help with--"  
  
"Serial number 779201-Foxtrot-Zulu-Echo."  
  
Peorth was confused. "Excuse me?"  
  
"Christopher Mark Davis," he repeated, "Agent, Federal Reality Commission. Serial number 779201-Foxtrot-Zulu-Echo."  
  
"I don't think I understand--"  
  
"Christopher Mark Davis. Agent, Federal Reality Commission. Serial number 779201-Foxtrot-Zulu-Echo."  
  
He continued to repeat the same chant, and by now, the unresponsive Chris was arousing Peorth's anger. She placed her hands on her hips, as the time to be diplomatic had quickly passed.  
  
"Very well," she said, "If you must have it your way!"  
  
With a wave of her hand above her head, Peorth formed an incantation of her own, unbeknownst to Chris that it would do any good for the sole reason that she was no less than a Goddess First Class and capable of many things beyond his imagination. But for now, a strong wind inside the room would do, and it was enough to take Chris off of his feet and through the opening window.  
  
He cried out loud, at first unable to control his own motions, but then hoping that he wouldn't have to, as he was being spirited high off the ground and through the air by a goddess flying beside him.  
  
"What is going onnnn-aaaaaaa!?" he said at the top of his voice, but the fury of the wind beneath him easily drowned him out. As far as he could tell while he was twisting and turning in the sky, he and his captor were heading towards the largest and tallest structure on the island. He was not sure if he was going to be entering the building or slamming right into it until a lattice in the top floor opened up and sucked him and Peorth right in.  
  
The place where he landed was devoid of illumination, but Chris rose to his feet and waved his hand all about to feel for any objects.  
  
"Ow!" he said when a hand struck his cheek. "I'm sorry!" he apologized after pressing his hand against Peorth's body, "What am I doing here? What's going on?"  
  
"Shh," whispered Peorth, "Just listen."  
  
For the moment, it was not beneath Chris to cooperate and just do nothing. He stood silent, seeing nothing and hearing only the sound of his rapid breathing. His mind wandered as he waited. There was a pulse in his wrist, so he was alive. There were so many unknowns about his present situation, and he hated not knowing his present fate. Jake and the others must be looking for him, if they knew where to start. Come to think of it, if only he kept his track-and-return device on his arm instead of ditching it at work, he would have been able to...  
  
Suddenly, Chris' mind went blank as he became transfixed on a singular light directly above him. It was not a voluntary action; a state of hypnosis passed over Chris as the light turned into a beam, shining directly into his head. He was overcome with a wave of energy, traveling through his body and exiting through his fingers and toes. His muscles tensed up and he remained frozen in the spot where he stood. His jaw dropped, and moans and grunts came from his mouth.  
  
Yet, Chris was unaware of any of his external movements. Deep in his subconscious, a voice whispered to him, comforting him and soothing him to form a bond of trust and get him to lower his shields. When he resisted, the presence in his mind reassured him, and after a few rounds of this, Chris capitulated completely to the will of the light. But it was neither commanding nor forceful, rather a soothing presence that could only be the one thing in the entire continuum on which Chris could put a name. All his life, he was rather indifferent to whether such a force existed, given all the things that he could explain and rationalize with his vast experience and knowledge. But now he was sure that it was real, and while he could never explain it from that point forward, he was touched by it, and that was good enough for him.  
  
After some time, the beam turned itself off and the voice in Chris' head was gone. The room lit up and he could see Peorth, standing near him the whole time.  
  
"That was...was that...is that...?" he stuttered.  
  
"Uh huh," she replied.  
  
"I feel...happy now," he calmly said, then pointing at her, "You're Peorth, right?"  
  
Peorth nodded her head, looking impressed, as always after the Almighty does the work for her.  
  
"And you're a goddess, and I was told to help you."  
  
She was relieved to hear that. Taking Chris by the hand, she directed him out of the room, saying, "Yes. We all need your help."  
  
"That was so refreshing. I feel content."  
  
"Yes, I know."  
  
"Was I being a bother before? I can't remember."  
  
"No, not at all..."  
  
"Say, do you guys have food? I think I'm hungry."  
  
---  
  
The operations room was alive with activity since long before dawn, as officers scrambled here and there for any number of purposes, but ultimately there was total chaos. Only three of the forty monitoring stations in the Headquarters' nerve center were powered and working, and the level of illumination was at its minimum setting, just bright enough for people to keep from running into each other. Otherwise, it paled in comparison to the situation outside, where the streets were obstructed with overturned transports and impulsive rioters and littered with debris and small fires. The city lay as close to ruin as possible before its buildings were brought down.  
  
The door swung open, and through it, Jake and Kim carried Jackie and her broken foot onto the nearest chair.  
  
"God!" she cried as she was helped onto the seat, "The guy had a knife, what else was I supposed to do, dammit?"  
  
"Jackie, the guy was in a wheelchair," Jake replied, "He could've been a hundred-and-forty."  
  
"And he was trying to mug us, didn't you know? Oh, this hurts! Ran over my foot, that wrinkle! What'd they make that wheelchair out of, cement?"  
  
"Just stay here. We have to get on the com, there must be a way to get you to a hospital."  
  
Jackie nodded, while clutching her leg. Jake navigated his way through all the confusion and flagged down the closest officer, who directed him to the person he believed was in charge at the moment. To his dismay, it only turned out to be Ensign Wright.  
  
"Boss!" Bryan cried.  
  
"Wait a minute," Jake said, "They thought you were in charge?"  
  
"Nobody knows who's in charge! I said it because I needed access to the videocom. It's not working, by the way."  
  
"Just great. Can you tell me what happened?"  
  
"First citywide blackout in twenty-seven years, that's what happened!"  
  
"What, the whole city is out!?"  
  
"Logs reveal an electromagnetic pulse affecting the five boroughs and parts of central New Jersey and Connecticut. Our internal Tokamak is online, but only producing 15% output. They've allocated most of our resources to ventilation of the top floors, but we don't know if air is getting up there, and we have forty-seven teams on away missions right now with no power available to the return gateways."  
  
"Well, that's for senior staff to handle, me and my team have been scrapping on the streets all night long. Hey, you!" Jake shouted, signaling a group of junior officers wearing search and rescue insignia on their uniforms.  
  
Bryan called out, "Yeah, but--"  
  
"Junior Director Jake Tyler," Jake said, "Where are you going?"  
  
The leader of the group replied, "Lieutenant Rich Langalli, Recovery Unit. We came in waiting for orders. You're the Junior Director?"  
  
"Yes."  
  
"Then we're waiting for orders from you, sir."  
  
"What?" Jake said, displaying his shock to Bryan.  
  
"That's what's I've been trying to tell you," Bryan said, "Best I can tell, you're the ranking officer."  
  
"What the hell? Where's the Senior Director?"  
  
"Uh," he said, going through his papers, "Testifying to Armed Services in Washington. All the maglevs going into the city are down, and all the shuttle routes are blocked."  
  
"The Vice Director, then!"  
  
"She's in labor at St. Vincent's. And the senior staff is on a delegation trip to Sigma 0-1-8. You are in charge right now, sir!"  
  
At that point, the room fell silent once everyone realized that Jake, one of only four Commission officers working out of Headquarters and in charge of an entire department, was in the room.  
  
Jake looked around, realizing that something bad was going to happen to him.  
  
"Aw, sh--"  
  
"Director!" cried one.  
  
"We need you to--!" said another.  
  
"These readings are from--!" a third officer said.  
  
Like an avalanche, the fifty or sixty-odd officers in operations poured over Jake with orders and requests, to which he was unaccustomed to processing. He looked at all of them with wide-eyed disbelief. Not expecting this kind of stress, his heart was pumping and his breathing was short. It took the adrenaline to course through his body to compel him to do something about it. Jake stood up on one of the consoles, and waved everyone off.  
  
"Alright, shut up!" he cried, to which everyone held their raucousness again.  
  
"Everyone," Jake said to them, "The entire city is in a blackout. I don't know for how long. This is a crisis situation. We have teams on Alternate Earths and they cannot get back until we power up the gates again. In addition, we need to account for all personnel on the master roll call and working in this building. Lieutenant Langalli, have your men evacuate the top floors to the emergency bunker. Everything above the seventieth floor."  
  
Langalli replied, "But, sir, that's all of fifty stories, and the elevators are out."  
  
"Then you better take a few more squads with you. Have everyone else stay where they are with rations and water."  
  
"Yes, sir."  
  
"You, over there. Have guards posted at all access points into the building, four-hour shifts. We have the only internal reactor in Manhattan besides City Hall, and we need to conserve energy. We don't need a riot at our door. Turn everyone away including personnel, but make sure they have rations. Now, everyone in this room above Second Lieutenant has just been deputized by the Technical Department. Your responsibility is to work with the techs to restore power to the building and get the gateways open. Everyone else has been ordered into the emergency bunker. Do not go home. The transports are out and it is not safe out there."  
  
The reaction to Jake's orders was anything but lively. Amongst the crowd of officers were murmurs of doubt and fear, and it was clear they were going to need more than instructions.  
  
"Everyone, listen to me," Jake said, "We are in control. The Federal Reality Commission and all of its resources are active. We have to be. This is the most important internal operation in the history of this agency. I know it can be done."  
  
It was the best Jake could do, but the looks on the faces of Jackie and Kim reassured him that it was adequate. The fear among the officers slowly dissipated, and even some confident expressions were traded.  
  
"Alright. I want status reports from all division chiefs in six hours. Dismissed."  
  
To his surprise, the crowd was more orderly and civilized once they heard from him. In a timely manner, some returned to their duties while others filed out of the room. Jake breathed a sigh of relief and got down from the console. He then looked at Jackie, who remained in her chair all this time, unable to stand up or walk on her broken foot.  
  
"What do YOU want?" he asked.  
  
"Dammit, I want you to get me to a doctor or something!" she cried in exasperation, "I'm better cutting off my foot at this rate!"  
  
Jake nodded. "I'll get you there, give me a minute. I'm running an agency, you know!" he joked. His expression turned on a dime, though, when he looked away from Jackie, and his smile turned into a look of frustration. With the present situation, there were a hundred concerns to tackle. But he had not forgotten. What happened to Chris?  
  
---  
  
"Let me get this straight," Chris said, "This...entire system, this...this...alright, one more time, please."  
  
"Yggdrasil," Peorth replied.  
  
"Right. What you just said. It controls the world?"  
  
"Yes."  
  
"The whole world?"  
  
"Yes."  
  
"And now you want me to fix it? This?"  
  
Chris was both amazed and incredulous. He and Peorth stood in the largest, most complex nerve center he had ever seen. Within it were beings capable of things far beyond his imagination. But now they were calling on him for assistance.  
  
"Yes."  
  
Chris nodded his head, not to consent but to display his understanding. "Alright," he said, "Needless to say, this is a lot to take in. Among everything else."  
  
"We summoned you because we need your help, Chris."  
  
"Yeah, you told me. You want me to get rid of the same virus that's been in our computers, right?"  
  
"It's actually called a Hegelas," Peorth explained, "It's a very small creature that's been buried for centuries. A group of humans unearthed it not too long ago, and now it is wreaking havoc all over the world, replicating itself and interfering with our systems. The technology on Earth is still primitive, so the effects there are minimal."  
  
"Not our technology," Chris retorted, "Our network here has been ravaged for two weeks now. I've already been called in four times to patch it up."  
  
"And that's why I need your help."  
  
Peorth watched him parse her words in his head, as he paced back and forth in front of her. She was determined to enlist his aid. Desperate, even, but she tried not to show it, hiding behind a veil of professionalism that came with running Yggdrasil. She didn't mean to be so serious with Chris, but this was an extreme situation. She did not know what it would take to bring him from his world into hers. Now that he was here, Peorth realized that the task of enlisting him would be difficult. But if anyone outside of the order could help them, it would be Chris.  
  
"What makes you think that I can help you in the first place?" he asked.  
  
"You hacked into our system," Peorth said, "In fact, you did it twice! I believe you possess an intuition that our brightest minds lack. We need that right now, more than ever."  
  
"What're you talking about? I'm surrounded by...gods and goddesses! You're telling me you can't fix your own problems?"  
  
Peorth didn't have an answer at first. All she could do was shrug her shoulders and smile plainly. She then said, "There are forces that even we don't understand. The progress of the Hegelas into Yggdrasil is devastating. And if we can't maintain the Earth, then all--"  
  
"Alright, you don't have to finish that sentence!" Chris exclaimed. He sighed in frustration, while running his hands through his hair, almost wanting to pull them out of his head. He still did not fully understand what was expected of him, but not acting bore grave consequences. Yet the system that lay before him was far more sophisticated for him to make sense of it all. He would've insisted that, on both occasions, he stumbled upon Yggdrasil by accident, but he was sure that it would not help. Chris' back was against the wall, but then again, so was Peorth's, and as a Reality Jumper, he appreciated that desperate measures were in order.  
  
"I don't even know where to begin," he said, "I wouldn't know how to work the system in the first place."  
  
The goddess' smile widened once she picked up on the notion that Chris was beginning to come around as he spoke, when he nodded his head and gave her a look of intent, as if to show his resolution.  
  
"If I could assign to you someone who could instruct you," she replied, ready to burst, "Will you do it?"  
  
Chris answered quickly, "Perhaps, but that someone would have to--"  
  
"Done!" Peorth said happily, wrapping her arms around him, "I knew you would say yes! I have my absolute faith in you, Christopher!"  
  
"W-well, it-it's Chris, but--" he stammered.  
  
"Oh, you do have a good heart."  
  
"I-I don't really know about...hey, is this how you treat everyone?" he asked as Peorth continued to embrace him as if he were a cute little pet.  
  
"If only you were of this world," she said, "I would've fulfilled your heart's desire!"  
  
"That's really sweet, but...hey, could we...well, stop this now?"  
  
---  
  
Assured that he would be getting an aide to assist him, Chris convinced himself that, until help arrived, he could at least fumble around with the controls and consoles in the room where he was brought by Peorth. After ten minutes he had gained a certain degree of confidence, but only because he could predict the tones that would sound whenever he pressed certain buttons. He wouldn't hazard a guess on what they meant, but in this case, small favors were quite valuable.  
  
Ten minutes after that, Chris had found a crawlspace underneath the console, just large enough for him to lie flat on his back and slide his head, his upper body and his arms inside. This he did without hesitation, once he concluded that electrical current was not what was keeping this technology running, and that he would not be shocked for poking his head into potential trouble.  
  
It took another five minutes of touching the insides of the console and investigating its inner workings for Chris to realize that someone had finally stepped into the room. Delicate footsteps pressed against the floor, but his ears picked up on the motion.  
  
From underneath the console, he called out, "Are you the, uh--?"  
  
"Oh!" a soft voice, that of a young woman, said suddenly, "You startled me!"  
  
Chris felt confused. "But you saw me down here, right?" he asked.  
  
"Yes," she said.  
  
"Yeah. See, I would've thought that it would be the other way around."  
  
"Oh. I didn't want to frighten you."  
  
"Uh-huh," he said, while still inspecting the insides with uncontested curiosity, "So why did they send you?"  
  
"I'm sorry, sir," she replied, "I can tell from your voice that I am inadequate. I will send for someone else.  
  
The voice was delicate and polite, that of someone who was careful and shy. He rolled his eyes, unseen to his visitor.  
  
"No, don't leave!" Chris assured her, "I didn't mean anything by it! I just want to know, why did they send you?"  
  
The voice paused, and actually stuttered a few incoherent syllables before she could form a true sentence. "I've learned everything there is to know about Yggdrasil, sir. I've been training to work in system maintenance."  
  
That really caught Chris' attention. "'Training'!?" he cried, finally inching out of the crawlspace to see his visitor, "What do you mean, 'training'?" When he got to his feet, he had to pause to visually inspect her, for the first glance at her made the hairs on the back of his neck stand up. She was a goddess, alright, for she had on her forehead a marking, a symbol of some sort, just like Peorth. Her dress was also just as surreal, an intricate gown of light colors and simple lines and shapes, but pleasing to the eye and well suited to the goddess that wore it. Everything about her, from her light brown hair to her reserved facial expression, displayed that she was a unique creature, while unassuming and unusually quiet, never speaking unless spoken to, never acting but reacting to others, as was the case when she spoke to Chris.  
  
"I'm sorry, sir," she said in response to his outburst, "I was told that I could best help you with our dilemma, but if you would prefer someone else, then--"  
  
"No, no," Chris replied quickly, "That's not what I meant, I apologize. Obviously Peorth sent you for a reason. And you did say that you can teach me how to work Yee-goo--um...this system. Am I right?"  
  
"Yes, sir..."  
  
"Alright, but please don't call me 'sir'," he suggested, "I'm not that old, and I imagine you're just as young as I am."  
  
The goddess-in-training nodded, keeping her eyes to the ground, looking up every so often at Chris.  
  
Chris sighed, "C'mon, look at me."  
  
She did so, revealing her most delicate eyes to Chris. Not that he wasn't already convinced that she was exceedingly shy and timid.  
  
"I'm Chris," he said gently.  
  
It took a moment for the goddess to respond. She bit her lip and gathered the will to speak again, "Metrina."  
  
TO BE CONTINUED. 


End file.
